A Moment in Time
by Kati Kate Monster
Summary: What happens when Harry questions his thoughts about Ginny, and Ginny knows? A Missing scene in HBP one-shot. H/G


**Disclaimer:** I am not JK Rowling, therefore I own nothing. If I did, do you think I'd be writing this on here?

**Warnings: **none..

This is just a missing scene in HBP.. and I wrote this pre-DH, so this is why it might be a bit..er.. bad?

Harry found himself sitting in the common room, waiting. He did not know for what, and he did not know how long he had been sitting by the fire, staring into the embers' depths. His eyes stung from the heat, but he could not seem to look away. He didn't know what he was doing, or what he wanted to be doing, or what the flames had reminded him of. It must be of something of the utmost desire because he didn't have the power in him to take his eyes off of the burning red blaze.

Maybe it was just the pressure getting to him. It was almost a year since he found out that he was the one to kill Voldemort, or maybe it was the search of… something. It had to be something that Dumbledore has not yet revealed to him. Something important that he was keeping from him, that is until he had retrieved the true memory of Slughorn. He was contemplating whether on not to get up now to go get the memory, or to wait until Saturday when he was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. It was soft and pale, but not sallow. He heard the couch creak behind him as he heard her sit down. Harry blinked once to clear his eyes of the heat. He would have screamed at anyone to go away, to just leave him alone, but he did not when he heard the melodic voice say, "Harry?"

He turned, knowing who it already was and responded by looking at her, his eyes pouring every single thought he had had about her into the room. Ginny could sense his pain. She spoke softly, as if trying not to scare him. She nearly whispered, "I haven't seen you lately, Harry. I've missed you. I thought you should know, I want to break up with him, but I can't hurt him."

Harry knew exactly whom she was talking about. Why she brought Dean Thomas up, he would never know, but as long as the subject was up, he couldn't help but to ask, "Why?"

"Because," she stated simply, "well, I think he's not quite right for me. Hermione convinced me the other day. Why should I pretend; when there's someone… well, you don't want to hear about that. You wouldn't care."

"I do care Ginny." He watched her ears flush a brilliant maroon as he instantly wished that had phrased that differently. "I miss having you around me… and Ron and Hermione, they miss you too. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"What about you he, Harry?" She raised her voice, slightly, only enough to alarm Harry. "At the ministry, with the prophecy and Vol—Voldemort coming back and all. I want to know if you're all right. I care too, you know."

Harry was shocked at hearing Voldemort's name come out of her mouth. In just that sentence, she had said it all. All that he needed to hear, anyway. He leaned down to Ginny's cheek when a voice popped into his head, muttering one of the only words that could've stopped him. _"Ron."_ What would Ron do, if he found out that he… he loves Ginny? When he heard about Michael Corner, wow. He had never seen Ron explode so much before then. He cared so much about his sister. Ron was always so careful with her, keeping her safe and making sure she didn't get a bad reputation, even if he was being horribly hypocritical. He could not imagine what he would do if Harry went out with Ginny. He leaned away from Ginny's cheek. He sighed, hoping she didn't notice. She looked up at him, expectantly. She knew what was going through his head and leaned over to whisper in his ear, "Maybe later." He felt the slight breath on his cheek that gave the smallest hints of flavoured Chap Stick as she got up slowly, leaving Harry in a new phase of distress by the fireplace. He could've sworn he heard a soft sigh and a muffled sob coming from the staircase where Ginny had just left. He took one last look at the flaming hair in his last few conscious moments before sleep hit him, comparing it to the glowing embers left in the fireplace as sleep closed over him.


End file.
